No Way Back
by HamhaPHKFan
Summary: "You were going to die! It's different this time! I tried to save you. I tried to stop it, but I just made everything worse. For everybody. I'm so sorry."
1. Chapter 1

"Did you see his _face_ when I told him that if he waited a few years then he wouldn't have had to write out all those pages by _hand!_?"

Sherman broke into a fit of laughter, almost falling out of his seat. Peabody couldn't help but smile at his son's antics, though he kept his eyes on the WABAC's controls. "Granted, it would have made his writings easier to read, but Lincoln couldn't have postponed the files for very long. The official document did end up being typed out, though."

Sherman stopped laughing at that, sitting up straight, ecstatic. "Do you think I helped with that?"

"Perhaps." Peabody replied, his expression unchanged.

It had been a few weeks since the incident with the time vortex. Everything had gone back to normal. Mostly back to normal, at any rate. Sherman had started going to school, without any problems. Peabody had started working more, since he had more free time.

Of course, that meant they were busy more often than not. Sherman had friends, Peabody had meetings. The only real time the two spent together was during their trips through time, which the two enjoyed thoroughly. Before Sherman started school, the WABAC was used almost daily, but because the two of them hand their hands full most of the time, the trips were less often than Peabody would have liked.

Peabody's smile faded slightly. He glanced at Sherman out of the corner of his eye. Sherman was looking out of the front window, at the different time streams and pathways through space. He seemed to be content with the few trips he went on, as he had found other things to do, such as spending time with friends he made at school. At the end of the day, the boy and the dog were usually too tired to even think of travelling. Peabody wondered if Sherman was upset with that. Sherman had no obligation to give up on what he enjoyed, and Peabody would _never _force him to.

Unless it was dangerous and threatened reality in some way, but other than that, Peabody wouldn't take away what made his son happy.

Peabody looked as if he was going to say something else, but a loud, yet calm, female voice interrupted him before he even began as it drifted throughout the ship, red error warnings opening themselves on every screen and surface.

"_Error. You are attempting to travel to an era in which you exist. This could alter the fabric of space-time_."

"Not this again." Peabody nearly growled in annoyance, his smile vanishing completely. He pressed the manual override to the warning that the WABAC gave him, with more force than necessary.

"Mr. Peabody?" Sherman asked, tilting his head slightly and kicking his legs in his seat. "Why does it keep saying that?"

Peabody rubbed his forehead in agitation, pushing his glasses out of alignment as he did so, though he quickly put them back in their rightful place. "I don't know. I've run hundreds of different scans, but each one says that nothing is wrong with the WABAC!"

Sherman didn't press the issue, trying on his own to think of a reason as to why the WABAC was acting the way it was. It had started the day after the time vortex opened up in the sky, the day after his first day of school, the day after he and Peabody got three presidential pardons and were allowed to stay a family. Sherman knew that whole event was still a sore subject for Peabody, so they never really brought it up. Though, they had talked about their adventures that day, from Egypt to Florence to Troy.

Neither of them liked to talk about Troy, either.

After everything was fixed, Sherman had thought that everything would go back to normal. He would get up, have breakfast, go to school, go back home, then travel back in tome and meet a famous historical figure. The rest of the day was inconsistent, though. Sometimes Sherman would go out and play with his friends, mostly Penny, but other times he would stay home and just read a book or play by himself. There was never a set schedule in the afternoon, but that wasn't the problem.

The next day after the 'incident', after returning from a trip to ancient Britain, the WABAC warned that they were trying to travel to a time where they already existed. Peabody ran a series of test, which lasted so long that Sherman ended up falling asleep, but when he woke up he found himself in his bed. Peabody had said that the WABAC had malfunctioned, and that it shouldn't give that warning if it wasn't necessary. The next day, the warning blared again.

Needless to say, Peabody was not pleased.

Over the next few weeks, the warnings kept repeating themselves, and both Sherman and Peabody began to dismiss the warnings as a glitch. Peabody kept trying to fix it, but he had been very busy ever since the 'incident'. He was constantly being called for government meetings, press conferences, and one autograph session that Peabody swore he never signed up for.

That left them with a broken time machine.

Sherman didn't realize they had landed until the doors began to open. Sherman saw Peabody watching him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, but his father never said anything as he began to walk out of the WABAC. Sherman followed behind him, so used to the dazzling lights of the futuristic chamber that they didn't impress him as much as they did when he had first viewed them. They walked into an elevator, and in no time at all they were back in the familiar penthouse.

Peabody continued walking, leaving Sherman unsure of what he should do. He didn't have any homework, and he was sure he had a lot of time before he had to do anything. He continued debating internally before deciding to follow Peabody around for a while. Sherman went the way he saw Peabody go, and found himself at the kitchen.

When Sherman entered, he saw Peabody tying an apron around himself, and Sherman's stomach rumbled in approval. Sherman's cheek flushed in embarrassment, but Peabody merely smirked as he walked over to a large cupboard, opening the doors and nearly disappearing inside of it as he leaned in to reach whatever he was searching for.

"What are we having for supper tonight, Mr. Peabody?" Sherman asked as he walked over and sat at the kitchen table.

"Pork floss and fried okra, with a side of sweet rolls." Peabody replied, emerging with large bowls and pans. He placed them on the counter, and made a move to get the ingredients he needed.

Sherman took a deep breath in eager anticipation. "I didn't understand a word of that!"

Peabody took a brief moment to give Sherman a look before continuing his preparations. He had found the ingredients he needed and set them in their individual bowls before taking what looked like a green plant and setting it on a cutting board. Peabody took a knife from its rack and began to slice.

Even when unprepared, the food looked delicious. Sherman couldn't wait. His eyes drifted to the oven's clock, and it took a few seconds for the time to sink in before he jump off of his chair, smile vanishing completely in his shock.

"Oh no!" Sherman exclaimed, running out of the room. Peabody paused mid-slice and watched Sherman run off, hearing a series of thumps and what sounded like something expensive shattering on the floor, making him cringe. A second later, a messy haired Sherman emerged, wearing his school backpack, though it looked like it had been emptied. Sherman gave a crooked smile, turning around and heading towards the elevator, completely forgetting that he was hungry. "I gotta go! Bye!"

Peabody watched Sherman with confusion and surprise. The whole event happened so suddenly that it took him a moment to react, but as soon as he did he was instantly worried, and it showed. "Where are you going?"

Sherman spun around to face Peabody, though he was still shuffling backwards towards the elevator doors. "Penny said she wants to go the library with me!"

The conversation would have been calmer if it hadn't been held just as Peabody's son pressed the elevator button, and the doors slid open. Peabody took a few steps towards Sherman, as if that would make the excited child stop and listen for a moment. "When will you be back?"

Sherman shrugged, still grinning as he pressed another button and the doors began to close. "I don't know!"

Peabody held up his hands in a gesture to stop Sherman from leaving, even though he already knew it was too late. That didn't stop him from trying. "Wait!"

"See you later, Mr. Peabody!" Sherman called a final time as the doors shut.

Peabody stood there, staring at the doors. He still wasn't used to having his son out of his sight. Even sending Sherman off to school was difficult. Peabody had gotten better at it over the last month, but it didn't make it any easier, especially not after his first day of school leading to them almost being separated. Peabody tried very hard not to think too much about that time. Any other part of that day but when his son was almost taken away from him. The whole situation had left the both of them...

Rattled. Unsettled. Peabody had let Sherman out of his sight for the first time in seven years, and it almost ended with him losing his son, and Sherman losing his father. Sherman had gotten over it quickly, but that was to be expected from a seven year old. The next day, Peabody had to use every ounce of strength not to keep Sherman home and prevent him from going to school. But, Peabody wouldn't take away what made his son happy, even if it made himself less so. It was _hard_ to suddenly not be the only one in his son's life.

Peabody's tail lowered, and he walked back to the kitchen. He continued preparing the meal, though a little slower than before.

The penthouse was eerily silent, as it was whenever his son went out, and he was left alone again.

* * *

Sherman almost skipped down the sidewalk. Before he had left school that day, he and Penny made plans to meet and go to the library. Penny had been strangely secretive about it, but Sherman didn't pay that fact any mind, perhaps because the place they were meeting was stranger by comparison.

Penny said that she wanted to meet by the old cemetary. She didn't tell Sherman why, and Sherman didn't press because he didn't really mind where they met. He was too excited about the prospect of going to the _library_. In his excitement, his pace quickened considerably.

He neared a large, metal gate. Sherman soon saw long, blonde hair and a pink dress, and his entire face brightened. Sherman called out to the figure. "Hi, Penny!"

Penny turned around at the sound of her name. She smiled in return as her friend ran over to her, trying to keep his empty bag from slipping off of his shoulders. "Hi, Sherman. Ready to go?"

Sherman nodded firmly. "Yeah! I never usually go there because I get to see everything when it happens, so this should be fun!"

Penny's smirk grew, then she turned around and walked through the metal gates, gesturing for Sherman to follow. "I'm sure we'll find someone you haven't met yet."

Sherman's smile faded slightly as he watched Penny walk into the graveyard.

"Uh, Penny?" Sherman began as he ran to catch up to his friend, walking close behind her and holding the straps of his backpack tightly in an unconscious act to comfort himself. He kept his voice down. "I thought we were going to the library."

"Nope." Penny replied, her hands held behind her back. She didn't even look at Sherman as she spoke, sounding proud of her idea. "I said we were going someplace that has the names of hundreds of people."

Sherman's smile disappeared completely. He looked around, spotting a few women and men standing around a tombstone a good distance away. Sherman lowered his head as if that would keep him from being seen. "Isn't it rude to be here when people are paying respects?"

"We're not going to do anything _bad_." Penny said, as if the answer was obvious. In her seven year old mind, her logic was flawless. "We're just going to look for a name that sounds interesting. We can go back in time to meet them when they're still alive."

Sherman didn't like the idea. He really didn't like the idea. He was tempted to just go back home and ask Peabody about interesting people instead of coming to a place that not only looked creepy, but was a place where real people were actually _buried_. It was also starting to get foggy. It made everything look like a horror movie.

Sherman didn't want to go in, but Penny said it was okay. They weren't actually going to _do _anything. Nothing bad was going to happen.

Sherman nodded, albeit unsurely. "Okay."

The two kept walking until Penny suddenly stopped, Sherman almost walking right into her. Penny looked around for a moment before nodding to herself. "We'll start here."

She proceeded to walk over to the closest tombstone, reading its inscriptions before moving along to the next one. Sherman joined her, but started on the next row.

He had only started reading the first one when he realized that he _really_ didn't like the idea. Many of those people had the same first names of people he knew. Not only that, but he thought about how the families must have felt. He had almost been in that situation himself. In Troy, the place he didn't like to talk about, Sherman thought that his father had died. He had been wrong, but it didn't make it hurt any _less_.

Sherman looked away from the graves. He had only looked at three, but that was more than enough for him.

He couldn't see Penny.

Sherman didn't panic at first. He had been in real terrifying situations before, so a graveyard shouldn't have caused such a fearful reaction. He shouldn't have been so scared of a dark, foreboding place. All alone.

He was _seven_.

The seven year old boy's voice was only just above a whisper. "Penny?"

He tried to spot his friend, but she was no where to be seen. Sherman started backing up slowly, glancing around nervously. He was about to call out for her again, but a sudden solid and cold feeling on his back made his voice leave him. Sherman turned around rapidly, and saw another tombstone, just as grey as the ones he had already read.

Sherman calmed down slightly, deciding to walk beside the row of graves to see if they would lead him to Penny. He only took a step when something caught his attention and he looked back at the tombstone he had backed into. His eyes were drawn to the words written on it, written in the same way as the others, a name, dates, and a final message. He read, and his eyes widened. He gasped, stumbling backwards and falling down. He stared at the tombstone in shock. The words were faded, some letters beyond illegible, but Sherman could still make most of them out.

**Hector Peabody**

**M-rch 26 - - Nov-m-er 19, -959**

**Beloved Father**


	2. Chapter 2

Everything went by in a blur, and Sherman was having trouble making sense of anything.

Penny returned to Sherman's side only a few moments later, looking rather bored. She hadn't found anyone interesting at all. All of those people may have had amazing stories to tell, just not amazing to a seven year old girl with a growing appeal of danger.

Penny took no mind to Sherman's tense stance. He always got like that whenever Penny wanted to do something fun, such as in Florence with the plane. She was about to speak, ask if he had found a name worth searching, when she saw the expression on her friend's face. She watched him in confusion, and she was going to ask what was wrong, when she followed his eyes and saw what was making him act so strangely.

She gasped, and stood there for a second before turning around and almost running back the way she came. Sherman didn't look after her, eyes glued to the slab of stone. The words drawn into it were engraved into his mind, though running through it was the memory of a Trojan Horse.

Soon, Sherman could hear voices. They were faint at first, but it took even less time than it took to first hear them than for two figures to appear beside him.

"This one." Penny said, pointing to the grave with clear concern. She looked up at the person she lead, an old man who looked much nicer than would be expected from a groundskeeper. The man inspected the gravestone for a brief moment, then nodded.

"Ah, I remember him," The man said, voice solemn. "He was returned home from Egypt in 1959. A peculiar case, that one. The doctor that examined him said he had been poisoned."

Penny looked back to Sherman, who still looked like he didn't know how to respond, and he didn't. His father was dead, but he was still alive. Sherman had been with him less than an hour before, but his gravestone was right in front of him. It didn't make any sense. It was something they both had a hard time believing. Him having a grave would mean that he had died, and Mr. Peabody _couldn't die_. Hector Peabody. November 19, 1959.

Beloved father.

Penny's frown deepened. She glanced back up at the groundskeeper and thanked him. He nodded and began walking away, returning to whatever he had been doing before hand. Penny took a few steps towards Sherman, who had yet to move. Penny hesitated for a moment before she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to find some way to comfort him. After a few seconds, she spoke. "Do you want me to walk home with you?"

Sherman took a while to respond, then he nodded.

He didn't want to be alone.

* * *

The walk back to the penthouse was silent. Penny walked beside Sherman, keeping to his slower pace. It was taking much longer to return home than it had to leave, and the entire time Sherman was dreading what he would find when he entered the building.

He stared at his shoes as he walked, not even bothering to stop and tie them once they fell undone. The graveyard left him fearful that when he got home he would find his father on the floor, or that he wouldn't be there waiting for him. Sherman had already once thought that Peabody had died, and he had been wrong that time, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. That didn't mean it wasn't a _possibility_.

That thought hit him full force as soon as he read the gravestone, and wouldn't leave him alone. His mind was jumbled and that left him unsure of how he was supposed to respond. Peabody died, but he was still alive. He was so _confused._

Penny stopped walking, and Sherman followed her lead, looking up to see the entrance to the apartment building. He glanced over to Penny, who was still watching him with sympathy. Even in the state he was in, he didn't forget his manners. "Thank you."

Penny smiled lightly, though she seemed to have trouble keeping it up. She turned around and began walking to her own home. She suddenly felt the need to hug her parents.

Sherman walked into the building, and tried to wave to each of his neighbors that greeted him, in an attempt to make things seem normal, and make him feel better. It wasn't working. Sherman walked into the unoccupied elevator, stepping on the tips of his toes to reach the top button. The doors closed, and the lift began to rise.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what he _could _do. His father was going to die. He couldn't tell Peabody about it. Peabody would most likely dismiss the idea completely, and lightly scold his son for trying to give away future events concerning them. Sherman _didn't know what to do_.

The elevator gave a small beep to indicate that he had reached the top floor, and the doors slid open, revealing his living room interior. There was no movement. Sherman stayed standing in the middle of the lift, uncertain. It was almost a full minute before Sherman took a single step inside the room.

"Sherman." Peabody's voice came from the kitchen in a greeting, and made Sherman freeze. After a few seconds, he took a few more steps and peaked around the corner, not finding anything out of place. He slowly walked into the kitchen, seeing Peabody standing on a stool, wearing his white apron and flipping okra in a frying pan.

It was a normal setting, and it should have helped the little boy calm down, but it didn't. It made him feel worse. It showed him everything he could lose. He felt himself tearing up.

"How was your time at the library?" Peabody asked, beginning to stir a pot on the stove.

Sherman looked down at the floor, not wanting to look at his father. He walked over to the table and climbed up onto a chair, his feet dangling of the edge, though he felt he didn't have the strength to kick them. Sherman felt guilty, as if he lied to his father, even though he himself hadn't known where he was actually going. Sherman's voice was small and quiet. "We didn't go to the library."

Peabody paused mid-stir, and looked to his son disapprovingly. "Sherman, you need to tell me where you're going to be. What would happen if you needed me, and I didn't know where you were?"

Sherman remained tense, eyebrows furrowing slightly. He still kept his head down. "I thought we _were_ going to the library."

Peabody raised an eyebrow at the tone Sherman used. He crossed his arms, not in anger, but still in a negative way, as if he was getting ready to scold his Sherman for doing something wrong. "Where did you go?"

Sherman didn't reply. His eyesight was blurry. Sherman wiped his eyes to keep tears from showing, but Peabody saw, and his eyes widened considerably.

"Sherman?" Peabody asked in concern. He completely forgot the cooking food and dropped down from the stool. He walked over to where his son was sitting. "Sherman, what's wrong?"

Sherman didn't reply. The memory of Troy seeped into his thoughts, and he could only think about how he was almost all alone. Peabody had disappeared, Ms. Grunion was going to take him away, and he was _all alone_. If Peabody died, not only would his father vanish from his life, he would be taken away again. His vision was growing blurry again.

Peabody went to stroke his son's hair in an attempt to calm him down, but Sherman recoiled from the touch. As soon as he did, Sherman stole a glance at his father and saw a shocked and slightly hurt expression on his face, and Sherman immediately regretted pulling away. He opened his mouth to apologize, but found the words stuck in his throat. Sherman slid off of his seat, taking slow steps towards the hallway. He didn't look up from the floor boards. "I'm gonna go to bed, Mr. Peabody."

Peabody's expression remained concerned, but his eyebrows knit in confusion. "You haven't had dinner yet."

Sherman didn't stop, as if he was running on autopilot. "I'm not hungry."

Peabody went to say something else, but his will to do so faded rather quickly. "Alright."

The pot on the stove was beginning to audibly boil, and the okra was sizzling, but Peabody didn't care. He felt as he had before, when Sherman went out alone. For the second time that day, Sherman left without him.

It wasn't alright in the slightest. Peabody was worried. Whatever had happened to Sherman while he was gone clearly upset the boy, and Sherman wouldn't tell him what was causing him distress. Sherman had never kept anything from him before. At least, not for very long. Even when Sherman did something in secret, he would always end up telling Peabody what happened and why. Sherman never actively avoided him like that before.

They had argued before, in the WABAC, when Peabody had kept a secret from him. He had kept a secret from Sherman, outright lied to him about Ms. Grunion. Sherman had been nothing but honest. Peabody mentally scolded himself.

Sherman had run away, then.

Peabody frowned. It was irrational. Peabody knew better than anyone that it was irrational to fear something that was never going to happen. Sherman was only seven. He still needed him. He wasn't going to be taken away. He wasn't going to leave. Even if Sherman grew older and spent more time with his friends and went out of the house more often, that didn't mean that he wouldn't want to _be_ with him anymore.

Sherman wouldn't let his father touch him.

Peabody called out quietly. "Goodnight."

He didn't receive a reply.


End file.
